An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication
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What Price Paradise
ISBN #1-4199-0264-4
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
What Price Paradise Copyright© 2005 Katherine Allred
Edited by: Pamela Campbell
Cover art by: Syneca
Electronic book Publication: July 2005
The terms Romantica® and Quickies® are registered trademarks of Ellora’s Cave Publishing.
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This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.
What Price Paradise
Katherine Allred
Trademarks Acknowledgement
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:
Resistol: RHE Hatco, Inc.
Band-Aid: Johnson & Johnson Corporation
Chapter One
Pregnant. The word rang in her head as sweat popped out on her face. Impossible, but true. One time. She’d had sex one time in her life and this was what happened.
Abby dodged yet another groping hand and made her way to table four, a tray loaded with drinks balanced on her hip. The three men at the table barely looked up as she served them, which was fine with her. Having them pretend she didn’t exist was preferable to fighting them off. For her there was no middle ground.
She handed the bottles of beer around, putting one in front of the only empty chair at the table. Friday and Saturday nights at Delly’s were always loud and crowded since it was the only tavern within a hundred-mile radius that sported a dance floor with live music.
Picking up the ashtray from the table, she emptied it into another one on her tray, the odor of stale cigarettes assailing her nose. A wave of nausea rolled over her and she closed her eyes, willing her stomach to settle. It had been happening all day and each time seemed to get worse. If this was what she had to look forward to for the next seven and a half months, she didn’t think she’d make it. Didn’t even want to.
Her gaze moved to the dance floor. He wasn’t hard to find. Tate McCullom was the tallest man in the room. He wasn’t the best looking, not if you liked the slick, polished look of a model, but his craggy, rough features were certainly enough to attract lots of female attention.
Even from across the room she could feel the force of those crystal blue eyes as he looked up and studied her intently over the head of the blonde he was holding in his arms. Diane. His fiancée.
Abby lowered her gaze and turned back toward the bar just as a wave of heat swept through her. The edges of her vision went black and the nausea hit again. This time, she knew, it wasn’t going away.
With an urgency born of desperation, she tossed the serving tray onto the bar and dashed down the long hall. Only a screen door blocked her path outside and she went through it at a run, barely making it outside before she started to heave. Not that it did much good. She hadn’t eaten since yesterday, but her traitorous stomach seemed bent on emptying itself anyway.
Hands braced on her knees, she leaned against the side of the building and sucked in deep breaths of the cool night air. Suddenly, the hair stood up on the back of her neck and, even though she hadn’t heard the door open, she knew Tate was there.
“Abby?”
Well, at least he knew her name. Hysterical laughter threatened to bubble from her throat, but she forced it down as her stomach roiled again. “Go away. Please, just leave me alone.” She couldn’t look at him. Not now.
“You’re sick.”
“Virus.” She wanted to say more, to come up with a good explanation, but her tongue seemed to be choking her. Even that one word brought on another heave.
She felt more than saw him take a step closer, then those broad, strong hands were supporting her, holding her up. She flinched from his touch, wanting nothing more than to just lie down and die. But of course, nothing was that easy.
“Why don’t you ask Pete to give you the rest of the night off? You’re in no shape to work.”
Her nausea eased, replaced by a surge of anger, and Abby pulled away from him. “This is the only job I’ve got. I can’t afford to take off. Now please leave me alone. What I do or don’t do is no concern of yours. Go back to your fiancée. I’m sure she’s wondering where you are.”
There was a second of hesitation, then he turned and walked away. As soon as she heard the door close behind him, Abby slid down the wall and buried her face against her knees. She wouldn’t cry, couldn’t let herself go like that. In the ten years she’d lived in Cooper Creek, Texas, this was only the second time Tate had ever said more than two words to her. Considering what had happened the first time, it was probably a good thing. And she doubted he even remembered it.
She allowed herself one sniffle, then stood and wiped the sweat from her forehead. If she didn’t get back to work, Pete, her boss, was going to come looking for her. Only one more hour until closing. She could hang on until then.
* * * * *
“Where did you go?”
Tate parked himself in an empty chair and glanced at Diane. Her blonde hair framed the face of an angel and, as always, a surge of emotion washed over him. He had known her forever, couldn’t remember a time when he hadn’t known they would spend their lives together. Now he was beginning to think he might have blown it for good.
“Outside.”
A bottle of beer sat in front of him and he’d started to lift it to his lips when her well-manicured hand covered his.
“Tate, please reconsider. We could have so much fun. And I really want this. You know I’ll pay for everything.”
“I can’t, Diane. Even if I could leave the ranch for that long, I can’t leave Buddy alone. We’ve been all through this. When are you going to understand I have responsibilities I can’t abandon?”
Her perfect lips puckered into a pout. “Buddy is sixteen. He can take care of himself. You just don’t want to go.” She gathered up her things. “I’m leaving first thing in the morning. If you change your mind, you know where to find me.”
A sense of desperation hit him. “Look, why don’t you forget this trip? We can find a justice of the peace tonight and be married by tomorrow.”
“I told you, Tate. I refuse to live in that ramshackle barn you call a house. When you build a new one, we’ll talk about it.”
“I don’t have the kind of money it takes to build a house. Especially when there’s nothing wrong with the one I have.”
“It’s old.” She wrinkled her nose. “And ugly. Why can’t you just do one thing for me? Is that too much to ask? I’m beginning to think you don’t really love me.”
“That’s not true.” He kept his voice low.
“Isn’t it? Clayton wants to build a
house for me.”
Tate couldn’t control the anger that flashed through him while she studied his face.
“For that matter,” she continued thoughtfully, “I bet he’d love a little vacation.” She yanked the diamond engagement ring off her finger and tossed it onto the table. “We’re through, Tate. And this time, it’s for good.” With a swirl of sleekly styled blonde hair, she flounced out of the bar.
“She did it to you again, didn’t she?” Joe Blackburn sat down in the chair Diane had just vacated and picked up the ring, turning it over and over in his hands. “How many times does this make? Ten? Fifteen?”
Tate took a drink of beer. Joe had been his best friend since they were little more than babies, but sometimes even friends could get on your nerves.
“What was it this time? She wanted you to go to another one of her daddy’s fancy parties?”
“No.” Tate’s gaze wandered to the back of the building, searching. “She wanted me to take her to the Caribbean for two weeks.”
Joe stared at him for a minute. “You’re joking. Did she think the ranch was going to run itself? That’s pretty extreme, even for little miss rich—” His words cut off as Tate glared at him.
“It’s not her fault that her daddy is the richest man in town. You just don’t know her like I do. She’ll be back.” Tate only hoped he’d be here for her when she did, but he was beginning to doubt it.
“Damn right, she will. Look, Tate. How long is it going to take before you start listening to me? I keep trying to tell you, she’s not worth it. She’s only stringing you along. Diane Prentis doesn’t care about anyone but herself. She never has and she never will. She’s been seeing Clayton Caldwell. You know it. I know it. Everyone in town knows it. Face facts. She’s never going to marry you.”
Tate stared at the ring in Joe’s hand, then pulled it away from him and stuck it in his pocket. Joe was right about one thing. He had known about Clayton. It had caused their last big fight six weeks ago. That night, he’d been the one who called the engagement off for a change. Then he’d gone out and gotten drunk. It was what had gotten him into this mess to start with.
Again, his gaze wandered uneasily to the bar, searching for and finding Abby. She was loading a tray with drinks, her skin pasty white under the bar lights. She looked horrible, like she might fall over face-first any minute. Strands of long black hair had escaped from her ponytail and clung to her sweat-dampened neck.
He might not remember much else about that night, but he remembered what her lips had felt like on his, the heat that had roared through him when he touched her. The soft curve of her body under his. Remembered how it felt to sink himself into her warm, welcoming depths. God help him, he’d sported a raging erection for a solid week afterwards, every time he thought about it. And then the fear had set in.
She’d been a virgin. That little fact had sobered him up real fast, but not fast enough to keep him from taking her. Not fast enough for his brain to realize he wasn’t using protection.
Had she told him the truth tonight? Was it just a virus or was she pregnant? He’d been holding his breath ever since that night, waiting for the ax to fall, waiting for the words that would end forever his relationship with Diane.
“So, what are you going to do about it?”
Tate’s head whipped around in shock before he realized that Joe was still talking about Diane. Diane and Clayton. “Nothing.”
“Nothing?” His friend sounded disgusted. “You’re just going to let her get away with it.” Joe waved and caught Abby’s attention, holding up two fingers when she looked at him. She nodded and turned back to the bar.
“What do you expect me to do? Lock her up?” He watched Abby head toward their table, two more beers in her hands.
They both fell silent as Abby put the bottles in front of them. Tate tried to catch her eye, but she refused to look at him.
Joe watched her walk away, a thoughtful expression on his face. “I think if I were you, Hoss, I’d at least want to get even. Maybe you should take a shot at some of that.” He tilted his head at Abby. “I’ve heard she’s pretty hot in the sack.”
The rage that hit Tate was uncontrollable. Before he even knew he was going to, he’d grabbed the front of Joe’s shirt and hauled him halfway across the table. “I think you better learn to keep your mouth shut until you know what you’re talking about.” He forced the words through tightly gritted teeth.
“Easy, there, Hoss. Easy.” Joe held up both hands, palms out. “I didn’t mean anything.” He sank back into his chair as Tate released him. “I just don’t understand how you can keep taking Diane back time after time. No woman is worth what she puts you through.”
Tate reached for his wallet and slapped some money on the table. “It’s not your problem. It’s mine and I’ll handle it my way.” He pushed his chair back and stood. “See you later.”
* * * * *
Abby tied the sleeves of her sweater around her waist and stepped out the door. Normally, she enjoyed the walk home after work. The air of calm serenity that fell over the town in the wee hours was soothing after the noise and crowds of the tavern. But tonight nothing would soothe her.
Panic hit her as she thought of the tiny life that had taken up residence inside her. What did she know about having a baby, much less raising one? She could barely buy food for herself. There was no way she could afford a doctor or medical bills. And as soon as Pete discovered she was pregnant, she’d lose her job. Admittedly, it wasn’t much of a job, but at least the tips kept a roof over her head.
She angled across the parking lot and turned north. There were no sidewalks here. Delly’s was on the very edge of town, too far out for such amenities. She walked on the grassy verge, her sneakers silent in the dew-dampened weeds.
Deep in her own whirling thoughts, she didn’t hear the pickup until it slowed almost to a stop next to her.
“Get in. I’ll give you a ride home.”
The voice sent a burst of anxiety through her. She glanced up but kept going, fear making her heart pound against her ribs. He couldn’t possibly know. “Thanks, but I’d rather walk.”
The truck shot ahead of her and pulled over, the red flare of lights almost blinding her as he hit the brakes. The sound of the door slamming behind him echoed across the empty street.
She hesitated, then increased her speed, intending to go right by him. When she was even with the truck, he caught her arm. His hand was warm, his grip firm and determined. The speed of her heartbeat increased another notch.
“Abby, we need to talk.”
“There’s nothing to talk about. Go home, Tate.” She pulled her arm loose and started walking again, praying he’d just go.
He fell into step next to her. “You’re pregnant, aren’t you? You don’t have a virus.”
The air went out of her lungs as though she’d slammed into a brick wall, and the blackness threatened again. She staggered to a halt, fighting to draw in a breath. He knew. Dear God, he hadn’t believed her earlier excuse for being sick.
Until he caught her, lifted her, she hadn’t realized she was falling. There was a dizzying sense of motion, then she found herself propped up on the seat of his truck.
“Abby?” His voice seemed to come from a long way off. “Abby, if you don’t answer me I’m taking you to the hospital.”
That got her attention. No way could she pay a hospital bill. She forced her eyes open. Tate leaned over her, blue eyes reflecting concern. Dark hair spilled onto his forehead. Would the baby look like him? Hysteria welled in her at the thought. Fighting it off brought her back to her senses.
“I’m okay.” At least, she would be if he’d just go away.
He shot her a look that said he didn’t believe her, his eyes narrowing to speculative slits. “No more arguments. I’m driving you home.” He climbed in next to her and started the motor. Abby managed to slide across the seat until she was huddled tightly against the door, as far from him as the space allowed. ?
??It’s on Maple.”
“Yeah, I remember.” The words carried a cynical edge. He glanced at her. “You weren’t going to tell me, were you?”
Abby remained silent. There was no way he could know for sure. He was only guessing.
“Did you think I wouldn’t notice after a while?”
She turned from the window to look at him. “Assuming you’re right, that I am pregnant, what makes you think the baby is yours? I’m the town whore, you know. Or hasn’t anyone told you that yet?” Abby tried to keep the sarcasm out of her voice. The label shouldn’t hurt after all this time, but it did. Just because it was true about her mother didn’t mean she was the same. But try to convince the people in this town of that. And now they had even more ammunition to convince themselves she was a carbon copy of her mother.
“I may have been drunk that night, Abby, but I wasn’t unconscious. You were a virgin. If you’re pregnant, we both know it’s mine. Don’t you think I have the right to know if you’re carrying my child?”
“No,” she whispered. “I don’t think you have any rights at all where I’m concerned.” The lights of the town grew closer together, plunging them in and out of darkness. “This isn’t your fault. It’s mine. So if you’re feeling guilty, you can forget about it. It was my choice, my body, and it’s my baby. Mine, and no one else’s.”
“You’re wrong, Abby. It’s mine, too. Whether you like it or not.”
“Oh, right, Tate.” She was dangerously close to panic again. “You’re just going to proclaim to the whole town that this is your child. Your fiancée should really love that. Maybe we can all get together and have lunch after you break the news to her. She and I can even compare notes on your technique. Should be really interesting. Of course, I only have that one time to use as an example, but it was enough. Boy, was it enough.” To her horror, tears streamed down her face and she made a belated attempt to wipe them away. It didn’t help. The harder she tried to stop them, the faster they fell.